


Don't Wanna Sleep Here Alone

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, Midtown
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-29
Updated: 2009-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spinning out of control</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Wanna Sleep Here Alone

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) wanted dirty boys. Who am I to say no?

  
Gabe’s got a good foot in height on Pete, and Gabe’s also flying high on something, so Pete’s putting all his strength into holding Gabe to the wall. It’s hard enough, but the fact that Gabe’s got one leg twisted around the back of both of Pete’s and is grinding up against him makes it even more difficult. As does the fact that Gabe’s whispering into Pete’s ear about all the dirty, hot, seriously fucked-up things he wants to do to Pete. He’s talking shit Pete’s never tried and other shit Pete’s never even heard of, and he doesn’t care because Gabe’s voice is low and hot and shivering up and down Pete’s spine.

Pete digs his fingers into Gabe’s wrists beneath his purple hoodie, his fingers aching from the grip. Gabe’s cock is jutting into Pete’s thigh and all he can think about is that he needs to get Gabe the fuck out of here before he does something that’s going to end up in all the papers, all the press and all over the fucking internet. At least this kind of shit they can pass off as stuff they do all the time.

“C’mon, Petey,” Gabe purrs, words slurring just slightly, just enough to remind Pete that Gabe’s seriously off fucking balance. “Wanna take you up.”

“Not gonna happen, Gabriel.”

Gabe laughs and the sound shoots straight to Pete’s dick. He bites back the groan, not wanting to give Gabe the pleasure or the incentive to do it again. Gabe’s sharp teeth nip at Pete’s earlobe and he thrusts slowly, hips rolling in a circle against Pete’s. “Want to hold you down and suck your dick so deep in my throat. Want to suck and mouth your balls until your dick is hard enough to count as a concealed weapon. Gonna ride that cock of yours.”

“Goddamn it, Gabe.” Pete turns his head and finds Gabe’s mouth. He can’t tighten his fingers around Gabe’s wrists anymore, but he can grind them into the wall until the sharp sting of brick against his knuckles scrapes raw. Gabe fucks his mouth slow and deliberate, proving a point. Finally, Pete has to break away, breathing hard and torn between taking Gabe home and letting him do everything he’s been promising all night or dumping him in the fucking Hudson River.

He figures he’ll make up his mind on the way, so he drags Gabe out of the club, tossing off a few waves and trying to keep his distance from the hordes of girls he knows are outside, lying in wait like some sort of fucking band of roving hyenas with autograph books and boobs they want signed. He catches a cab around the corner from the club and folds Gabe into it, surprised at how easy he is to maneuver. He gives the cabbie Gabe’s address, debating half the ride whether he should change the final stop. It’s not until they’re past the river that Pete actually manages to talk without being afraid they’ll have to dredge the water for Gabe’s body in the morning.

Gabe spends the ride in the cab on his phone, most likely texting everyone in his phonebook and the fucking world at large via Twitter. Pete can only imagine what he’s saying, can only imagine what the fuck he’s _on_. Gabe’s eyes are practically black and his leg is jittering up and down, bouncing like a fucking rabbit on speed. Pete finally reaches out, grabbing Gabe’s phone away and draping his leg over both of Gabe’s, trying to keep him still. Gabe looks at him and smiles, predatory and edging on vicious and Pete gets another low kick in his gut, his groin aching. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Why?” Gabe drawls the word out, reaching over to trace Pete’s crotch with his long fingers. Pete’s dick responds, because he’s only fucking human and Gabe is… _Gabe_ , and Gabe laughs low. “You don’t want me calm.”

“You keep on believing that, see how far it gets you.” Pete shoves money at the cab driver and angles Gabe out of the car and up into his apartment. Gabe’s all over Pete, draped on his shoulders, half-lying against his back, trying to make Pete’s shorter legs move farther, faster. “Jesus, Saporta.”

“Don’t believe in the fucker,” Gabe reminds him as he slides his hands down to Pete’s waist then wraps his arms around him, picking him up into the air and shaking him up and down so that Pete’s ass hits Gabe hard on the pelvis. “Don’t try to fuck me with your Gentile bullshit.”

“Put me down, you crazy fucker.”

“You’re short and you smell funny.”

“That’s not-” Pete cracks a smile and can’t even finish. “God you’re…”

“Gorgeous? Sexy? A hot mess?”

“A fucking lunatic.”

“Semantics.” Gabe sets Pete down and then spins him, grabbing his hands and running wildly in a circle until Pete shoves him and they land hard against the brick wall of Gabe’s apartment building. Gabe’s head hits the wall and he groans, but then he shoves back and the next thing he knows, Pete’s in a slapping, shoving bitchfight with Gabe until they both stop, breathless and laughing, bent in half with their backs to the wall. “You are such a fucking girl, Wentz.”

“Whatever, Gabriela.” Pete shoves Gabe with his shoulder and Gabe practically falls flat on his ass.

“Gabriela?” Gabe steadies himself and shoves hard back against Pete. Pete grabs Gabe and they both end up sprawled on the sidewalk, Gabe heavy on top of Pete. “You stupid fucker.”

Pete laughs and tries to shove at Gabe. “I just want to get you home and in bed so I can go crash. Stop acting like a fucking three-year-old.”

“You’re a bossy fuck, you know that?” Gabe gets to his feet and holds a hand down for Pete. Pete grabs it, jerking Gabe forward so that he has to stumble not to fall _on_ Pete and instead lands on his hands and knees on the sidewalk just above him. “You _cocksucker_.”

“In your dreams, Saporta.” Pete turns over and gets up on his hands and knees then stands, slapping Gabe hard on the ass. “Though you do look kind of hot bent over like that.”

“Oh, fuck you, Wentz. It is _on_.” Gabe bounds to his feet and comes after Pete, charging up the stairs in the apartments after him. Gabe’s got longer legs, but Pete has fucking _incentive_ and he reaches the sixth floor just before Gabe, ducking through the door before Gabe can grab him.

The hallway is quiet, but it’s early enough that Pete doesn’t care, running full out to Gabe’s door. Gabe catches him just before he makes it, tackling him to the ground. Pete can feel the burn of his jeans against the carpet and knows his knees are going to ache like fuck in the morning. Pete kicks and rolls over and Gabe braces himself over Pete. “I look hot in _every_ position.”

“I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself when you’re taking it up the ass.”

Gabe growls, teeth barred and dangerous. He lowers his head, the sound reverberating against Pete’s neck. His chest aches as Gabe’s teeth graze his throat all the way up to his earlobe. “Is that what you want? Hmmm?” Gabe licks the shell of Pete’s ear and then blows lightly against the damp skin. “You want to fuck me?”

Pete grabs Gabe’s wrists and rolls them over, slamming into the wall. They’re going to wake up the neighbors or get the cops called on them, but Pete doesn’t care. They’re not on tour; they’re just themselves tonight, two friends, two co-workers. More. “Want to do more than that.”

Gabe’s breath hitches and his head falls back, his long throat exposed. Pete’s cock jerks even harder and he thrusts down against Gabe. Pete bends his head and licks Gabe’s throat, tasting sweat. Gabe braces his feet on the ground and thrusts up against Pete, cock grinding against Pete’s. “Here in the hall?”

“No.” Pete pulls back, kneeling between Gabe’s spread legs. “Inside.”

Gabe sits up and kisses Pete hard and hungry, fingers tight in the hair at the back of Pete’s head. Pete groans into the kiss and then breaks away, steadying himself on the wall as he stands. Gabe follows him to his feet. “About fucking time.”

**

They’ve barely made it through the door before they’re all over each other, Gabe tugging Pete’s shirt up and off. His mouth is hot as it slides along Pete’s jaw and throat, teeth grazing and nipping at the skin.

“Fuck,” Pete gasps, his hands scrabbling to get Gabe’s shirt over his head. Gabe’s long fingers tangle with Pete’s as he helps tug it off, both of them shivering from the heat of their skin when they come back together.

Pete’s mouth explores the slope of Gabe’s collarbone as Gabe’s hands press against Pete’s spine, sliding up and down the length of it, his breath fanning Pete’s hair in hot whispers.

“Fuck. Yes. Harder. C’mon, Wentz.”

Pete bites him, sharp and hot and Gabe’s hips jerk forward. Pete reaches back, catching Gabe’s wrists and pushing him back and away. Gabe stumbles, breathing roughly. There’s a dark mark on his collarbone, practically glowing, wet and slick. Pete keeps moving forward, still holding Gabe, guiding him with small, rough shoves.

Gabe’s eyes are hot, flashing warning signs Pete has no intentions of heeding. Gabe doesn’t look away, trusting the push of Pete’s hands until Pete has him backed against the bed. Pete stops, his teeth catching Gabe’s lower lip before he kisses him. Gabe’s mouth opens hungrily and Pete fucks it with his tongue, slipping past parted lips as he reaches down and undoes his belt. Gabe groans against his mouth, his hand wrapping around the back of Pete’s neck to hold him in the kiss.

The sound of leather sliding through belt loops is loud in the room and Pete can feel the tension ratchet up in Gabe’s body. Pete steps back, breaking the kiss and leaving Gabe standing there, panting roughly for a moment before Pete shoves him hard back onto the bed hard. Gabe falls back, sprawling across the dark comforter, watching Pete as he kneels on the bed and makes a loop of his belt.

Pete can hear Gabe’s breath catch, his eyes caught on Pete’s hands. Pete moves forward, settling on Gabe’s thighs. “Give me your hand, Gabriel.”

Gabe swallows hard and opens his mouth, no doubt some smartass remark on his lips that dies as Pete grabs his arm and twists it, looping the belt over Gabe’s wrist in a quick movement, then jerking it tight until it digs into Gabe’s skin.

“Oh, fuck,” Gabe whispers, his head falling back. His mouth is still open, his lips wet from the swipe of his tongue. “Pete…”

Pete pins the belt to the bed so Gabe can’t move far, his free hand snaking down to undo Gabe’s own belt. “Hips up.”

Gabe’s body responds instantly, no thought, just reaction. Pete’s cock throbs with the sight of it, and he unfastens Gabe’s belt, letting it slither free from his jeans. Pete winds his belt around his palm, pulling Gabe’s hand close to him then grabs Gabe’s free hand and holds it by the wrist.

“Fuck,” Pete whispers roughly, his breath caught in his throat. He wraps Gabe’s belt around Gabe’s free wrist and pulls it as tight as the other. Gabe makes a noise low in his throat as the leather cuts into his skin. Pete shakes his head and rises up, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he straightens. Gabe makes another noise as Pete threads the belts through Gabe’s headboard.

The leather winds like vines through the wood, suspending Gabe’s arms, his shoulders spread, the muscles standing out, Gabe’s skin shining with sweat. “W-” Gabe sucks in a deep breath and clears his throat. “Wentz.”

“Fuck, Gabe.” Pete runs his hands from the hollow of Gabe’s throat down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. “Look at you.”

Gabe’s eyes are dark enough that they look black and his mouth is open, his teeth sunk into his lower lip. Pete watches him intently as he runs his fingers back up, splaying his hands so that he can touch more of Gabe’s skin, damp with perspiration and heat. He pauses at Gabe’s nipples, rubbing his thumbs lightly over the hardened flesh. Gabe’s whole body jerks, the headboard protesting the hard pull of Gabe’s arms.

Pete smiles in satisfaction and repeats the gesture, this time using the hint of his nail to scrape the flat surface of the nipple. A hard shudder runs through Gabe, and he bites his lower lip again, skin turning white around his teeth. His nostrils flare and he _looks_ at Pete, threatening retribution.

“What’re you gonna do, Gabanti?” Pete’s voice is light and teasing, a sharp contrast to his weight as he sinks back down onto Gabe’s thighs. “Gonna fight? Gonna struggle?” Pete leans in and catches Gabe’s earlobe in his teeth, pulling it into his mouth and sucking slowly. He feels the rumble in Gabe’s throat and releases his ear, painting the shell of it with his tongue, his breath hot against the wet skin. “I kind of want you to struggle.”

Gabe groans thickly and he turns his head, catching Pete in a kiss. Gabe tries to take control of it – Gabe likes control – but Pete pulls back, his own breathing threatening to get away from him. Gabe’s wrists are wrapped in black leather that matches his eyes and, for a moment, Pete forgets everything else.

Taking a shaky breath at Pete’s look, Gabe licks his lips. Pete lets his eyes move down the length of Gabe’s torso to the hard bulge of his dick to the denim-clad thighs he’s straddling. Moving his hands down, Pete’s thumbs trace the trail of dark hair down Gabe’s abdomen. Gabe’s breathing catches and goes again, falling out in the air between them.

Pete undoes the button of Gabe’s jeans then slides the zipper down. He’s not sure who groans louder as he eases the denim away from Gabe’s rigid cock. “Thank God,” Gabe breathes, his head falling forward. His boxer-briefs are just as tight, straining over Gabe’s erection.

Pete feathers his fingers in a slow ling along Gabe’s dick, fingers coming away damp and tacky from the wet stain of precome on the fabric. Gabe’s body spasms and Pete can hear his hands hit the headboard. He doesn’t look, just watches the slow roll of Gabe’s hips, the searching thrust of his cock as his body follows Pete’s touch.

“K-killing me,” Gabe manages to grind out. Pete looks up and Gabe’s hands are fisted, his teeth clenched.

“Not killing.” Pete’s surprised at how calm his voice is, how even, especially given that his own cock aches, rubbing against his jeans, easily as hard as Gabe’s.

“Torturing,” Gabe growls.

Pete smiles and eases Gabe’s underwear over his dick. “Yeah. That.”

Gabe’s cock is long and thick with arousal, the head flushed and slick as Pete eases it free. Gabe whimpers and wraps his hands around the straps of the belts, hips arching up off the bed again. Pete takes advantage, moving out of the way so he can strip off all of Gabe’s clothes.

Pete shoves the jeans and briefs to the floor then moves back between Gabe’s legs. “Fuck,” Pete breathes roughly. “Look at you.” His fingers move over the slope of Gabe’s thighs, feeling the taut muscles underneath the skin. He pushes Gabe’s legs wider apart, palms warm against Gabe’s inner thighs. Gabe moves easily and Pete glances up at his face. Long lashes flutter against Gabe’s flushed cheeks and his mouth is open, lips parted and breath loud. Pete groans under his breath and sprawls on his stomach between Gabe’s legs, teeth nipping at the junction of Gabe’s thigh.

“Fucking…” Gabe chokes out, his entire body jerking. Pete licks the spot then bites again, looking up to see Gabe’s hands flexing helplessly. “Pete,” Gabe groans low and desperate as Pete just smiles and moves his gaze back to the open display of Gabe’s body.

He trails a finger down Gabe’s cock, feeling the tension throbbing through the flesh, the pulse pounding. Gabe can’t quite articulate anything beyond a guttural noise which Pete takes as encouragement.

“What d’you want?” Pete asks softly, voice gravelly with lust as he follows Gabe’s cock from tip to base with his finger then moves it down to the tight sac, Gabe’s balls twitching at his touch. Gabe doesn’t answer, and the quick glance Pete takes shows him that Gabe’s mouth is moving but no sound is making it past the breath caught in Gabe’s throat, his chest moving fast and quick as he fights for air.

“My hand?” Pete teases his fingers lower, barely touching the sensitive skin of Gabe’s perineum. Gabe’s feet slip on the bedspread as he searches for purchase, breath breaking past his lips and falling apart in a shudder.

“Pete,” Gabe’s half-pleading and Pete has to look at him, has to watch him falling apart. He waits until Gabe manages to focus then he leans in close and follows the path of his fingers with a slow breath of air.

“Or my mouth?”

Gabe’s entire body goes rigid as Pete’s tongue traces the skin down toward Gabe’s opening and then up again before he takes Gabe’s balls in his mouth. Gabe groans, hot and rough, desperate in his tone. Pete tightens his mouth around him, sucking on him, tongue capturing and pressing Gabe’s sac against the roof of Pete’s mouth.

Gabe bows off the bed, his back arched, as Pete keeps sucking, hands holding the inside of Gabe’s thighs, keeping him spread open. He can see the hint of movement as Gabe shakes his head, murmuring nonsense under his breath. Pete coats Gabe’s balls with saliva, sliding them on his tongue.

Pete pulls back and Gabe’s hands slam against the headboard, his muscles quivering as he drops back down to the bed. “Y-you son of a…”

“Careful,” Pete murmurs against Gabe’s cock. “That’s my mom you’re talking about.”

“You fucker.”

“Mmm. We’ll get there. Maybe.” Pete licks the head of Gabe’s dick, tasting the salty hot of his pre-come. “If you’re lucky.”

“If I’m…” Gabe stops, words melting into an incomprehensible noise as Pete takes Gabe’s cock into his mouth, sucking it deep. Pete's laugh hums around Gabe’s dick as he sucks him, mouth tight as he uses his tongue, lips and the roof of his mouth. Gabe’s hands hit the headboard again and Pete pulls back slightly, saliva slick on Gabe’s dick, slipping down to the base, trickling down his hot skin. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Gabe’s gasping, hips rocking up into Pete’s mouth.

Pete slides his hands up to the top of Gabe’s thighs and holds him down, pulling off until only the head of Gabe’s cock is in his mouth. Gabe’s skin is slick with spit and pre-come. Pete wraps his hand around the base, spreading the wetness up and down Gabe’s length as he tongues the slit. Gabe writhes, the headboard creaking in protest, as he tries to brace his feet, tries to thrust up against Pete, tries to relieve the heavy weight of his cock.

“C’mon, Pete. Please.” Gabe’s voice breaks, his body jerking with every breath. “Fuck. Please. Pete.”

Pete takes Gabe deep again, his mouth closing around the base. Gabe shudders hard as Pete increases the rolling suction of his mouth and tongue. He hums low in his throat and Gabe’s body gives a vicious shudder, come flooding Pete’s mouth and throat. Swallowing, he keeps working Gabe’s dick until Gabe’s entire body is spasming with overstimulation.

Finally pulling back, Pete rests his forehead against Gabe’s thigh, fighting to catch his breath. All he can feel and smell is Gabe, the heavy scent of sweat and sex filling his senses along with the pulse of his dick in his jeans.

“Y-you’re a fucker, Wentz.” Gabe’s voice is shot, blown out from gasping. “Un-fucking-tie me.”

Pete rises up on his hands and looks up Gabe’s body, biting his lower lip. He can feel that it’s swollen, almost numb from sucking Gabe, and he chews at it as he manages a slow crawl up Gabe’s sweat-slick body. Gabe keep shuddering as Pete’s hands and legs brush against his body, groaning when the rough fabric of Pete’s jeans rasps against his skin.

Pete undoes the belts and catches his breath at the dark purple marks on Gabe’s wrists, cutting into the skin. “Jesus,” he breathes. Gabe whimpers as his hands fall to the bed. Pete grabs one arm and rubs Gabe’s wrist carefully. “You okay?”

Gabe just moans, his hips angling up sharply with every stroke of Pete’s thumbs across the darkened skin. “Stop,” Gabe barely manages the word, but Pete doesn’t stop, can’t. He has to keep touching, feeling the heat and blood start pounding beneath Gabe’s skin. Gabe moans again and closes his eyes, slumping back against the pillows, his body moving beneath Pete, completely out of his control. “Fuck, Pete…please. Please _stop_.”

Pete nods, easing Gabe’s arms down to the bed. He shifts back, settling his hips between Gabe’s thighs, leaning in to kiss him. Gabe’s mouth opens easily and hungrily and it’s not hard to build it into something desperate and aggressive, Pete thrusting against Gabe’s body as he kisses him, fucking Gabe’s mouth with his tongue.

Gabe catches Pete’s tongue with his and sucks on it, making low, soft noises in Pete’s mouth. Pete snakes his hand between them, undoing his jeans and shoving them out of the way as best he can. He breaks the kiss, moving down to Gabe’s jaw, teeth nipping lightly until he finds Gabe’s throat. Gabe whimpers softly, his body completely given over, out of control. “Pete,” he moans the word, elongating it, breathless and hot. “C’mon.”

“What do you want?” Pete rumbles the words against Gabe’s throat, licking his pulse.

“F-fuck me.”

Pete exhales roughly against Gabe’s neck and Gabe’s body jerks again. “Dunno, Saporta,” Pete murmurs, mouth still moving on the skin. “You’re all fucked up right now. Not sure you can handle it.”

“Can take whatever you’ve got, Wentz.” Gabe reaches out, his hand not quite steady as he wrenches the nightstand drawer open. Pete’s still on top of him, weighing him down, and he can see the host of condoms and a bottle of lube as well as lotions and oils. Gabe’s voice is rough. “Fuck me.”

Pete turns his attention back to Gabe. “Bossy little shit.”

“ _Pete_.”

Pete smiles and pulls back, kneeling and looking down at Gabe. His eyes trace over the smooth lines of Gabe’s skin, the ridges and delineations of muscle. Pete’s cock throbs at the sight and he shoves his pants down to his knees, stroking himself when he’s done, watching Gabe watch him. “Gonna have to fuck you like this.” Pete’s voice catches as a shudder runs through Gabe’s body. “Your arms aren’t gonna hold you up.”

Gabe forces himself into a sitting position and tugs Pete down to his him, one hand clumsy at the back of Pete’s neck. His free hand settles on Pete’s thigh, stroking the bare skin. Pete can feel the heat of Gabe’s bruised wrist and he moans into Gabe’s mouth. “Please,” Gabe bites Pete’s lip and whimpers into his mouth. “Fucking mount you right now if I have to.”

Pete groans roughly and pushes Gabe back onto the bed so he can reach for the lube and condoms. He doesn’t fuck Gabe – no one fucks Gabe – and his cock tenses at the thought of how _tight_ Gabe’s going to be for him. He sways a little at the thought, fumbling with the condom. He gets it on and open and manages to kick his clothes off completely, stretching out between Gabe’s legs again. The pressure of his body on his cock makes Pete groan again, just the hint of what it will be like inside Gabe making him throb.

He pours lube onto his fingers and brushes two of them against Gabe’s opening. Gabe’s body is spread open, but his hole is tight and Pete holds his breath as he rubs it over and over again until Gabe’s breath is stuttering out of him again, caught between Pete’s name and curse words, and then he presses one finger into Gabe slowly.

Pete’s not sure when Gabe starts speaking Spanish, but it’s desperate and broken and incredibly _hot_. Pete glances up and realizes that Gabe’s out of his head, out of control again. Still. He works another finger in and spreads them, and Pete recognizes some of the words as he fucks Gabe with his fingers, spreading him, and he stares, enraptured at the sight of Gabe writhing and begging.

He eases his fingers out when Gabe goes wordless and steadies himself between Gabe’s slick thighs. His cock is heavy in his hand as he presses it against Gabe’s wet skin and pushes slowly, rocking thrusts that fill Gabe in increments. Pete bites his lip hard to keep from making too much noise as Gabe’s body closes around him, tight and hot and like nothing else.

Pete pushes Gabe’s legs back as he slides deeper, opening him up with every stroke. Gabe’s body is tight enough to snap and it takes every remaining ounce of willpower Pete has not to come as he seats himself as deep as he can go and Gabe closes around him. There’s a moment of nothing, where Pete stares down at Gabe and Gabe stares back up and everything just goes away. They’ve never done this, not like this, and it’s more than Pete can handle, so he closes his eyes as he starts thrusting.

Gabe calls him on it, because he wouldn’t be Gabe if he didn’t, his ragged voice teasing Pete about watching what he’s doing, and Pete opens his eyes. Gabe’s eyes are shot wide, blown out like he’s high on something and it takes a moment to realize that Gabe’s jerking himself off, his cock hard again, and his fingers brush Pete’s stomach with every stroke.

“Holy…” Pete cuts himself off with a groan and comes, burying himself deeper inside Gabe. Gabe gasps and keeps stroking, working himself through Pete’s last desperate thrusts until he comes as well, spilling liquid heat on Pete’s stomach and his own. Pete’s arms shake slightly as he braces himself over Gabe, still breathing hard. Gabe’s eyes are closed and he looks different, something Pete can’t quite name.

Slowly Gabe blinks and looks up at him, lashes dark and spiked, his face glistening with sweat. He opens his mouth to say something and Pete shakes his head, leaning in and kissing him lightly. Gabe lets him and lets Pete pull away. Pete doesn’t look back as he gets rid of the condom in the bathroom, coming back with some tissues for Gabe. Gabe hasn’t moved except to turn his head and watch Pete quietly.

“What?” Pete can feel his defenses prickling, the usual sense of danger that Gabe’s got lurking under his skin.

“You gonna stay tonight?” Gabe asks, dropping the soiled tissues into the trash beside his bed. He looks away when Pete doesn’t answer, stripping the covers down so he can climb under them. “Lock up on your way out.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Pete doesn’t recognize his own voice but he recognizes the tightness in Gabe’s shoulders. Pete climbs on the bed and wraps his body against Gabe’s, around him. “G’ to sleep, Saporta.”

“Just don’t get used to it,” Gabe mumbles sleepily.

“The sex or you sleeping?”

“Shut up, Wentz. You don’t always have to have the last word.”

Pete smiles and kisses the hollow beneath Gabe’s ear. “Yeah. I kinda do.”  



End file.
